the science of getting high
by fluorescent lights
Summary: It is just that sometimes, she looks at him, and she can imagine a million different ways that they could go. BeckTori


Title: _the science of getting high_

Summary: It is just that sometimes, she looks at him, and she can imagine a million different ways that they could go. BeckTori

Author's Note: This story came to me in the strangest of ways. Can someone truly fall in love with someone at first sight? I keep thinking about it – so this was the result. Even though it has nothing to do with it, idk. NO ONE CAN HATE ME, BECAUSE THIS IS THE CLOSEST THING TO FLUFF I CAN WRITE.

Warning (I guess?): I don't personally believe in smoking weed, because it's makes me feel icky and uh, illegal (in most states), but I know _for a fact_ (or at least I convince myself) that Beck is a major stoner. Pretty much anyone who goes to Hollywood Arts seems to be a pothead.

Don't even get me started on Sikowitz.

/

If there was a word to describe their friendship, Tori would have to choose organic. Not because they spend their time smoking weed instead of studying for AP Bio, or the fact that Beck will get her an organic carrot every once in a while from the farm stand, _just because_. No, it is not because of those reasons at all. It's because they are so natural; so comfortable with each other. They can lay their heads on each other's shoulder and they can kiss the other's forehead, just to let them know they are there.

It seems almost like second nature when they fall into bed together. All the caresses and jumbled kisses – on nose, on ear, on neck and _oh – _how marvelous it feels! They touch ticklish spots and feel the lingering haze that the blunt gave them, making every touch seem twice as good as it is. And the next day, they smile at each other and there are no secrets between them – no problems or sorrow. Beck winks at other girls and Tori texts boys and twirls her hair while popping her gum. There is no stares across the table, just a quick smile whenever they would bump into the other's gaze.

However, as Tori stares into her chai and vaguely listens to the chatter around her, she cannot help but forget the way Beck kissed her breasts, and softly let his fingers nestle in her hair. For such a casual thing, the feelings that arose from her were incredible. She had never experienced such a high in her whole life, both from the weed and from the sex. And the fact is, she hates that she is such a girl. Not in the sense that she hates being a girl, because for all of the periods she will ever suffer and the future children she wishes for, Tori loves being a girl. She loves the way boys trail their eyes down her body, the tight jeans she can wear, the pretty earrings that adorn her ears, and the belly button ring she got as a dare. She just hates that even though she promised herself not to, she loves Beck more than she can bear. Although, this love she feels doesn't make the green person inside her stomach scream whenever she seems him with a girl, in fact, it does not make a noise.

It is just that sometimes, she looks at him, and she can imagine a million different ways that they could go. She could imagine him in bed on her wedding night or after they've just gotten plastered at the local bar. Having four kids with his messy hair and his smile or bumping into him years later, holding hands with children another woman bore, with only the twinkle of his eye and curve of his lips. And while staring into her cup of chai, she thought that perhaps life would be as beautiful as the rise of smoke from his lips, if after sex he muttered into her ear, "You remind me of sunrise."

He buys her another cup of chai, after that one gets cold. Perhaps, she thinks, that is how he tells her that he liked the sex too. To make it better, he drinks a bit before handing it to her, and she places her lips exactly where his nestled, so, indirect kiss. She smiles at him, imagining twenty different scenarios of how she could get him in bed with her again, when he announces, "We have a lab in AP Bio due tomorrow. Wanna come over and finish the conclusion?"

She curls her fingers around the cup of chai, and answers _yes_ as calmly as she can. He grins at her and runs his fingers through his hair, as she had done, over and over while he made her feel like she was something made of gold.

She barely catches his wink, but she does, and she is okay with just fucking, because she knows that he will make her wish he was her very first and very last.

/

She brings her lighter, just in case, the one he had bought her, with the etching of two dragons blowing out smoke. It was a joke in his eyes, some little trinket he picked up while on the way to an audition, but to her, it reminded her of them. But incidentally, his lips meet hers furiously before she can even pull it out. His fingers rummage under her dress, playing with the top of her tights before shimmying them down her long legs. She attempts to mumble a hello into his neck, which is ultimately drowned out by her sigh of pleasure when he flicks his fingers across the bottom of her underwear. He pecks her on the lips, smiling at her, before he lifts her and places her on the bed.

There is something different about this time, she realizes. They are both completely sober, and yet, he is more enthused by her, tracing her body with his eyes and kissing her hungrily, and yet, every touch is tender. She reaches up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and pulls her towards her lips, molding her figure to his. He touches the spot on her neck where he can feel the pulse, and she melts into him, practically losing all feeling in her legs. As she releases her hold on his waist, he breaks the kiss, lingering slowly and placing precise kisses while moving downwards. She loves how he kisses her stomach, in a wildly unrepeatable fashion. At that moment, she does not believe a soul will ever be able to make her feel as thirsty as she is for him – for his very self, for his love, for his touch. He remains at her hip bones for a decent amount of time, lazily letting his fingers make circles. For every loop he makes, Tori imagines ink following suit, a permanent tattoo of his patterns.

He raises his head and smiles at her, in his lackadaisical way, and slowly pulls himself up to her.

"Hello," he whispers, "Are you alright?"

She looks at him, her lust glazed eyes meeting his own, and traces his hairline, "I am wonderful, how are you?"

He laughs but the sound is muffled by her mouth meeting his. She makes her own patterns in his skin. She puts waves crashing on the small of his back, eyes on his upper arm, and later, when she's doing things with her mouth that are making him dizzy, she lets her thumb write her name on his thigh. There is something lovely about imagining him being hers, and although she knows that they are better being the best of friends, she cannot help but think there is something beneath it all. This is not meaningless sex. He screams out her name and she stutters out his, and he kisses her after all of it, not filled with passion, but filled with loyalty.

That night, when he falls back to the pillows and closes his eyes slightly, she traces the two dragons with her fingertips. Her lips quirk into a smile as she traces the metal over and over.

"Stay."

The word rouses her from her thoughts and she turns to him. He's under the covers, which although are dirty, are warm, and to her knowledge, incredibly comfortable. He half smiles at her, sleep clouding his eyes. Tori smiles back at him and faintly thinks that Beck is possibly the most handsome boy she has ever met. She drops the lighter and crawls to the sheets, her eyes fixed on his.

"Come here," he whispers, and offers out his arms.

She nestles into his embrace, his breath leaving warm imprints in her hair. He kisses the top of her head and soon, their breathing match.

"My parents are going to kill me," she mutters into his chest.

He chuckles, and Tori falls into the deepest sleep she will ever have.

/

The next day, they wake up early and shower together. There is something amazingly intimate about this, the way she can trail soap patterns across his skin, removing every trace of sweat and saliva from the night before. He gives her a hickey because she teases him about needing a haircut, and she bruises his lips in retaliation.

"You're a naughty girl, Miss Vega," he says, trapping her against the shower tiles.

She giggles, and lets him drop to his knees to make her moan. She takes hold of his hair and mumbles his name over and over until it isn't even a name, but a mantra. He pulls away before she's done, which makes her pout in protest before he lays her down on the wet shower floor. His cheeks are pink from the heat of the water, and she feels more naked than ever before, under his curious morning eyes.

"Beck," she whispers.

He meets her eyes, smiling sleepily before he lazily pushes into her. She gasps, still blinded by lust and perhaps a million other feelings that would concern her at any other time, and thrusts herself against him. He groans, pulling out and then slamming back in in a frenzied state, creating a memory that would later leave Tori panting in the middle of the night.

When they finish, Tori retraces Beck's skin with soap, making him complain that they didn't have enough time for another rendezvous, which in turn, made Tori snort at the use of "rendezvous."

Quickly stopping at Tori's home, where luckily, her mother was not, Tori and Beck arrive at school just in time for Beck's fan club to seethe in jealousy at the sight of the two laughing together. There is just enough time for Beck to quickly drag Tori in a broom closet for a quick kiss on her lips that she would think of for the rest of the day.

They're sitting at lunch when André points out that Beck has his hand on top of Tori's, tracing secret patterns in her skin. Jade bothers to make an sarcastic comment, saying something about how cute they are, and Tori turns so red that Beck laughs.

He smiles at Tori and taps his finger to her nose, "Chill, guys. I can't help myself. She's just so cute."

She squeaks and excuses herself. She smokes a joint on a curb and feels guilty because she can't even think of anything to be worried about. It's just that now, she keeps wanting Beck more than friends who fuck a lot.

And then, just thinking about it, she wonders if they've ever really been friends. From the second they've met, they've been in an eternal cat and mouse chase that she can't seem to break free from. Something in the bottom of her heart tells her that maybe she doesn't want to leave the cat and mouse chase. Maybe she never will want to.

/

She sits next to him in Sikowitz's class, and lets her fingers glide on his thigh without thought. Jade eyes them. It's strange, how comfortable and easeful everything between them seems to be, and Jade notices it too. This is why they have fallen into bed with each other without thought, because Beck will look at Tori and she can feel him on her skin even if they aren't even touching.

She has gotten in so deep, and has yet to take a breath. Beck's fingers intertwine with hers, and she can't help but take a gasp of air into her lungs, and he chuckles softly under his breath, like he understands her feelings exactly.

He leans his head on her shoulder, whispers low, "Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable at lunch. I felt bad that you left."

Squeezing his fingers, she tells him, "Let's hang out later. Let's talk."

He draws yes on her new jeans, over and over. She doesn't say a word about it, just smiles and catches her lower lip between her teeth, like she does when she's in love.

/

He shows up at her house with wet hair and a smile, and kisses her as soon as he's inside. She laughs against his mouth, teeth clacking against his, and he slides his cold fingers up her shirt to tickle her.

They tumble onto her sofa, her laughter mingling with his, and cold fingers sliding against warm skin. He kisses her again, and she feels her insides dancing to their own musical number, and she decides she'll ask André to help her voice her emotions. This feeling that settles in her stomach is intoxicating. Her favorite feeling is this: falling in love madly and irrationally.

"I love you," she says simply.

He pulls away from her neck, brown eyes half lidded and a lazy smile stretched across his face, "I love you too, Tor."

She pulls him back for a kiss, and it's just that. Simple, straight-forward, organic.

"I like being in love with you," he says later, panting slightly.

She laughs and spreads her fingers across his chest, feeling his heartbreak flutter underneath her hand. She felt at ease and wonderful, her lips bruised with his kisses and ribs achey from laughing too hard. Things were so lovely like this, with Beck and Tori and all the time in the world and laughter filling the gaps.

He laughs to himself, and she feels the vibrations through her fingertips, "How dorky is it that I've been falling in love with you since you spilled coffee on me?"

"Very dorky. Extremely so."

"Fine," he says with a grin, "I'll choose the zombie makeup fiasco."

He kisses her until her head gets woozy, and it's better than any high she'll ever feel. Nothing could make her feel as lovely as Beck could.

/

The next day, Beck hands her a lighter. It's a beat up Bic one, but in Sharpie scrawl, the words _I like being in love with you _are written.

After, he rolls her a blunt using their reference tables, and she decides that she will be in love with him forever.


End file.
